Read Online Mira in the Present Tense by Sita Brahmachari - Free Book Online Page B

haven’t leaked.
    â€œMira Levenson, what’s got into you today?” asks Miss Poplar. “Have you got ants in your pants?”
    At the mention of “pants,” I feel like I’m going to die. Of course, I blush bright red, and Orla, Demi, and Bo fall about laughing.
    All afternoon I duck into a loo every time I pass one…just in case.
    â€œAre you sure you’re feeling all right?” asks Millie.
    â€œDodgy stomach,” I lie.
    â€œSee you later, zit face!” Bo calls out as she pushes past me through the school gates, which is odd, because Bo’s forehead and just about her whole face is covered in acne.

    â€œHow was your day?” Mum asks when I get back from school.
    â€œGood.”
    And it has been a good day, because Jidé wasn’t in and nobody found out.
    It’s swimming today, but I’m missing it, because we’re going on this “adventure,” as Nana calls it. To be honest I wouldn’t have minded going swimming today because my period is over. I thought it would go on for longer than this, but when I looked it up in this book called Questions You Might Not Want to Ask Your Parents that Mum “just happens” to have had lying around the bathroom for ages, it said that it is quite common for your first period to be really light. It hasn’t actually been that bad, except for the appearance of the period pustule, and even that has shrunk to half its size overnight. You could almost call it a normal-sized spot today. So, if it wasn’t for going away with Nana Josie, I would have gone swimming today. I like swimming in a pool, but I love swimming in the sea best, when the waves come crashing over you!

Wednesday, 4 May
    We started swimming lessons in year six and I remember thinking that it seemed a bit late because the chances are, if any of us were going to drown, we probably would have done it before we were ten, so I always just assumed that everyone could swim anyway…but then there was Orla, who had never once in all her life been taken to a swimming pool. It’s not that unusual according to the not very subtle swimming teacher who shouted across the pool to her: “Don’t worry, dear. There’s usually at least one ‘non-swimmer’ in every class.” I think she was trying to make Orla feel better.
    Now we’re in year seven, and while the rest of us mess around in the big pool, Orla is still in what she calls the “pee pool” with the mums and babies and the beginners. Mostly, though, she pretends she’s “got a stomachache.” The last time we went swimming, one of the teachers said, “You can’t have tummy ache every week,” and Orla looked at the woman and said in a really loud voice, “Actually, I’ve got my period , miss!”
    As if you would actually say that!
    So, for all the swimming humiliations that Orla has suffered she has come up with a strategy for revenge. Orla and her “glamorous assistants,” as she calls Demi and Bo, have devised a competition about who’s got the best (and worst) body. It works like this. There are three judges, Orla, Demi, and Bo. They hand out marks out of ten for each bit of your body. When it comes to judging, Orla is definitely the most scathing. She will literally dissect you, limb from limb. You could have a score of six for your legs and four for your tummy and three for your arms. If you’ve got boobs growing, you get a low mark from Orla, because that’s just embarrassing. She grades the boys too. Ben Gbemi always gets ten out of ten because he’s been working on getting a “six pack.” Jidé usually comes in second place. If you asked me anything, I would switch it the other way round.
    Orla never gives any of the girls a ten, because she thinks she’s got the best body. Orla is definitely the thinnest girl in our class. You can see her hipbones and ribs sticking